Gender Roles
by Sidekicks-anonymous
Summary: A sting operation requires a young girl, and Ed is surprisingly willing to play the role. In retrospect, that should have been a red flag. Had Mustang known about the women Fullmetal had had in his life, he might have known better than to ask. Rated T for a creep who gets his just desserts.


**Warnings: mentions of child abuse**  
**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.**

* * *

Team Mustang huddled around a cluster of desks, examining the information spread before them. The scattered papers represented weeks of stakeouts and surveillance; yet all this intel only served to highlight the dead end they had reached.

"Laurent's shop is reputable," Roy summarized irritably. "He's never seen at the narcotics sales, none of the dealers will snitch on him, and there are no other apparent crimes for which we can investigate him." He sighed in disgust. "Could he have known he was being watched?"

"Possibly. It's a moot point." Falman flipped through a report, the expenses for this operation. "We can't justify spending any more resources when there's no solid evidence against him."

"I _know_ he's the mastermind." Mustang muttered. "He has meetings in his home, there has to be evidence there. We need a way to get in and search."

Fuery piped up. "What if someone broke in? Then he'd have to let us investigate the burglary."

"Assuming he reported it. Which is unlikely, considering his distrust of the police" Riza countered. "Besides, staging a break-in would be extremely illegal on our part."

"We could try a pretty-face con," Mustang mused. "That could at least get Hawkeye in the door."

Breda scowled. "I don't think Hawkeye is his type, sir."

"Oh. Havoc, then?"

Breda ignored Havoc's indignant sputter and pulled several photographs from among the papers. "Laurent likes girls, sir. Girls-not women." He spread the photos out for Roy to see. They showed Antoine Laurent-suspected crime lord- going about his business in town. They had reams of such photos, but these showed different girls accompanying Laurent, none above the age of 15. Mustang's stomach turned.

"He's frequently been seen going out with minors, buying them gifts and then taking them back home. I tried tracking the girls down, but the ones I found wouldn't talk to me, and his shop assistant insists that they're all distant family relations." Breda snorted. "He was awfully touchy for a relative."

"So he's a drug lord and a pedophile and we can't nail him for either crime," Mustang spat. "Fabulous." He eyed the photos with contempt. This man was sick, in more ways than one. He needed to be taken off the streets. Roy was tempted to get his ignition gloves and handle the problem informally, but he knew that would end in disaster. There had to be some way to bring this pig down…

The office door flew open, rebounding off the wall with a bang. No one reacted-after a year of working with Edward Elric, Mustang's team had become desensitized to slamming doors.

"Hey, Chief." Havoc greeted the bedraggled teen entering the office. Both he and the suit of armor that followed him were soaking wet. "Oh, is it raining?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "No, I decided to shower with my clothes on." His usual boisterous voice was raspy and weak. Havoc winced in sympathy.

"Caught a cold, huh?"

"It rained the whole time we were in Ortíz," Al said tiredly. "I told Brother to use an umbrella, but he wouldn't listen."

"Umbrellas don't stop germs," Ed shot back, the retort coming out as a breathy stage whisper. He undid his braid and wrung the wet hair out. "Next time, Colonel Wet Match can go inspect the mines himself. I hope he gets buried in them."

Mustang's expected retort never came. The team glanced at their leader. Roy was eyeing Ed thoughtfully, eyes skimming over his long hair and youthfully pudgy face. Riza guessed his thoughts before he voiced them.

"Fullmetal, can you act like a woman?"

The room stared at him. Ed blinked back at his commander in confusion. "...What?"

"We need a girl your age for a mission. I think you could look the part with the right outfit. But you'd need to act like a girl as well," Mustang spoke, not a hint of irony in his voice. "Could you do that?"

The team braced themselves for Ed's explosion. Whatever had possessed the Colonel to make such a suggestion, serious or not, there was no chance their youngest member wouldn't see it as an insult. He would never, ever-

"Sure." Ed shrugged. "Easy. What's the mission?"

"I'll explain after you dry off." Mustang shoved the intel reports aside, ignoring his gaping subordinates. "Falman, get a map of Laurent's neighborhood and start marking the best surveillance points. Fuery, prep a communications array. We need a cover story and props- Hawkeye, you're in charge of Fullmetal's costume." He gave his stunned team a sharp look to shock them into action. "Get to work! Operation Jailbait starts now."

* * *

Mustang's team was nothing if not efficient. Once they picked their jaws up off the floor, they got to work on a plan-though Havoc kept glancing out the window, expecting to see flying pigs. By noon the next day, the details had been hammered out, the props gathered, and the preparations set in place. All that was left was rehearsal for their star player. Mustang reviewed the plan with his team while they waited for Riza to bring him in.

"-Once Fullmetal gives us the signal, we'll move in. Breda and Falman will cover the exits, and Havoc and I will enter the building to perform the arrest and provide

back-up if needed. Hawkeye will be covering us from this rooftop. Any questions?"Havoc raised a hand. "Why do _I_ have to play the pervert?"

"Because Fullmetal needs practice and you drew the short straw."

"Brother has to get hit on by a pervert, and he's not complaining," Al pointed out. Havoc couldn't argue with that. The Chief definitely had the worst job in this operation. He was being a surprisingly good sport about it. Hopefully the gambit worked so his sacrifice wasn't for nothing.

A knock on the door announced Riza's arrival before she poked her head in. "Edward is ready, sir." She ushered the disguised alchemist into the office. Havoc's brain promptly exploded.

Ed was hardly recognizable. His dress was a frilly server's uniform from Laurent's favorite take-out place. Some discreet padding gave him a girlish figure, while a scarf complemented the outfit and also hid his developing Adam's apple. The skirt was only knee-length, but matching black stockings concealed the automail. A pair of delicate lady's gloves replaced his usual white ones. His face was mostly the same-Hawkeye had said makeup would be too conspicuous-but she'd obviously indulged in mascara, because there was no way Ed's eyelashes were naturally that long and pretty. The hair, though-that was natural. Out of its braid, it cascaded around his shoulders in a golden wave. A few locks had been pinned back with a bow for an added feminine touch. From head to toe, Ed looked like a preteen girl, and Havoc could have walked past him in the street without ever guessing the truth.

It was...creepy. Very creepy.

Al gasped quietly. "Brother, you look amazing!"

"Thanks…" Ed muttered. His voice, made soft by his cold, sounded almost feminine. "Do I have to wear this dress though? It itches."

"Deal with it," Mustang said without sympathy. He handed over the bag of food containers, a prop for the practice. "You remember your cover story?"

"I'm a new waitress delivering his order. I'm supposed to get inside the house without being suspicious."

"That's right. Just act like a normal girl."

Ed nodded confidently. He took his place opposite a reluctant Havoc, and the rest of the team settled in to watch.

At Mustang's signal, Havoc put on his oiliest smile. "Hello there-"

"Here's your stupid food." Ed shoved the bag into his arms and stomped past him into the nonexistent house. "Don't know why you had to make someone bring it to you. You're a grown man, can't you cook for yourself? Useless!"

"Stop, stop!" Mustang interrupted the tirade. "Fullmetal, what are you doing?!"

Ed gave him an incredulous look. "Acting like a woman."

"What did he do wrong?" Alphonse asked. Mustang slowly turned to the younger brother. Fullmetal might play dumb just to mess with his commander, but Alphonse was never difficult. And both boys looked genuinely confused.

"...How exactly do you think a woman acts, Fullmetal?"

"Tough, loud, takes crap from nobody." Ed puffed up proudly. "Like our granny."

"And our teacher," Al added. The brothers shuddered in horror. Mustang rubbed his temples. He should have guessed it wouldn't be this easy.

"Why don't you try acting like someone besides your granny? Like...that girl who makes your automail. What was her name?"

"Winry?"

"Yes, her." Roy remembered the shy little girl from when he first met Ed. She'd be a teenager now, the perfect role model for this part. "Let's try this again, but act like Winry this time."

Ed nodded and resumed a ready posture. Havoc took a deep breath and began again. "Hello-0"

The prop bag crashed into his face, sending him reeling back.

"How could you break my automail, you idiot?! Do you know how hard I worked on that?!" Ed clubbed the 2nd Lieutenant with the bag, screaming at the top of his lungs. "You have no appreciation for art, for the biomechanical beauty that is automail-!"

"STOP."

"What now?!" Ed ceased his assault, turning his fury to Mustang. Havoc took the chance to crawl out of reach. "That was exactly like Winry!"

"Automail wasn't even part of the situation, why did you mention it?!"

"That's all Winry talks about."

Roy buried his face in his hands. Why couldn't things ever be simple? Why did Fullmetal have to complicate every situation he got involved in? Why had Roy ever thought this was a good idea?

"What?" Ed bristled at Mustang's ire. "What do you think I'm doing wrong?!"

"Everything!" Roy snapped. "Women don't act like curvier versions of you! They're supposed to coy and gentle and soft-spoken!"

"What about Lieutenant Hawkeye? She's not any of those things!" Ed protested.

"Hawkeye doesn't count!"

"Why not?!"

"Yes, Colonel." said the Lieutenant in question, her calm tone sending a shiver down Roy's spine. "Why don't I count?"

You could heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. Mustang forced himself to look Hawkeye in the eye. He almost flinched at her cold stare. It was too late to backpedal, and empty words wouldn't satisfy Riza… curse his careless tongue.

"Hawkeye does not count," Roy said cautiously, "Because she is not an average woman. She is exceptional in every way, and it would be unfair to other women to use her as a benchmark."

Riza held his gaze a moment longer before nodding in acquiescence. Relief washed over him. With that crisis averted, Mustang turned his attention back to Fullmetal. Clearly using a woman as a reference wouldn't work for the boy, and Roy didn't trust him to act convincingly on his own. They needed someone he could emulate who was innocent and polite.

"...Alphonse. You try doing it."

"Me?" The boy was shocked. "But I can't pass for a girl."

"I know; it's just for practice. I want you to talk to Havoc using the cover story, but just act like yourself. Not like a girl, just as you normally would."

"I...guess I could try?" Al agreed hesitantly. Ed took a seat on the sidelines, flopping down in a pile of skirts. Al took his place, fidgeting nervously.

"Whenever you're ready, Alphonse." Mustang watched as the boy played the scene out with a bruised and irritable Havoc. It was perfect. Even better than he had expected. Alphonse's natural naivete translated beautifully into the role of an ingenue. Even his body language was perfect-the way he curled his shoulders in to look smaller and kept his head bowed so he could look people in the eye. In his massive armor body, these habits made him less intimidating; for someone Ed's size, the motions would be seen as submissive and vulnerable. Just the thing to bait a trap.

Mustang clapped when Alphonse finished. "Excellent work! Fullmetal, try it again. Act exactly how Alphonse just did."

Ed raised a skeptical brow. "But Al isn't anything like a girl."

"Then don't think of it as playing a girl. Think of it as playing Alphonse in a dress. Now get to work before I kick you in the petticoats."

Ed grumbled, but he rose to the challenge. It took several more hours of practice and fine-tuning before Mustang was satisfied with his acting, but the end result was well worth it.

Operation Jailbait was set.

* * *

Laurent had no idea how he'd ended up here. He prided himself on his care in covering his tracks. No authority had ever been able to pin him down, and yet here he sat in an interrogation room, handcuffed and bruised and awaiting questioning. He mentally reviewed the events leading up to his arrest, trying to make sense of them.

It had been a normal night. His lieutenants were gathered for their weekly reports, and he'd placed their usual order at his favorite restaurant. The food had arrived a bit late, but still warm-and accompanied by dessert. The little delivery girl was everything he liked-small and soft and docile as a dormouse. A young and tender morsel just begging for him to take a bite. She'd made no protest when he invited her inside for a "special treat." He'd rushed through his meeting, frequently glancing over to admire her golden hair and baby-smooth face. At last his lieutenants had left and he'd been free to make his move-and the girl had thrown him through a wall. Literally. Not only that, it had been the wall to his hidden storage room. He'd come to covered in splinters and illegal powders, with a horde of MPs breaking down his door and the girl nowhere to be seen. He didn't understand it. _How_ could this have happened?!

Laurent's thoughts were interrupted as his interrogator finally arrived. The black-haired man was instantly recognizable: the Flame Alchemist, the man who'd been digging into his business for the last month.

"Colonel Mustang." Laurent slipped seamlessly into the persona he used for officials-charming, collected, and calm. He greeted the colonel with an empty smile. "I didn't expect to meet the Hero of Ishbal in person. I'm honored."

Mustang didn't respond. Several silent minutes stretched on as Mustang adjusted his chair, arranged his files, and pointedly ignored the man in front of him. Finally he settled down and looked over his prisoner with infuriating casualness. "Antoine Laurent. Are you going to plead guilty?"

"To what? I'm honestly not sure why I'm here, sir."

"You know precisely why you're here." Mustang retorted bluntly. "We found a large quantity of drugs and illegal weapons in your possession. An incriminating find, though I'm sure you're already concocting a story to explain them away. However, we also have an eyewitness who heard you discussing your illicit business matters with your underlings. Between that and the evidence, I doubt you'll be able to charm your way out of this one."

Laurent hid a smirk. "Do you mean the delivery girl? She must have misunderstood the situation. Children are so easily confused. I doubt any judge would put much stock in her testimony."

"Sadly, you're right; a judge might not listen to a child." Mustang pulled a photograph from the files. "But I'm certain that they'll listen to a state alchemist."

Laurent froze. The girl in the picture...her hair was pulled back in a braid, and her expression was scowling, but it was undoubtedly the delivery girl.

"Recognize him?" Mustang waved the photo almost tauntingly. "This is Major Edward Elric, the youngest State Alchemist in history, and highly respected throughout the country. He's also the child whose backside you grabbed last night."

"Wha-no, that was a girl, she couldn't have been-I would have known-!"

"Apparently you aren't as perceptive as you think." Mustang steepled his fingers. "This is the only deal I will offer you, Laurent. Plead guilty to the narcotics and weapons smuggling charges. You'll go to jail, but you'll keep your reputation. Of course, if you prefer, you can go to trial and tell the whole world how you groped a little boy who then used you as a punching bag." Onyx eyes drilled into Laurent, cold and without mercy. "Which would you prefer to be your legacy?"

Before Roy's eyes, Laurent's composure crumbled. He took vicious pleasure in watching the criminal squirm. To someone like Laurent, reputation meant everything, and jail was far more comfortable for a notorious crime lord than for a child molester. And if Laurent still proved reluctant to confess...well, Roy was sure Fullmetal would be happy to act like a woman and beat it out of him.


End file.
